Difference
by AngelsofHades
Summary: Neville's lived with his Gran since he was 16 months old. She blames him for the 'death' of her son. She's abusive and Neville wants to escape. His wish is granted when he receives his Hogwarts letter, when he gets the chance to make friends, and eventually, find the family that really cares for him. Future Slash. Abuse.
1. Prologue

**Hey guys so this is my first story. Neville's smart, independent and pretty badass. His Grandmother has abused and neglected him for years. His Hogwarts letter finally arrives a few weeks after his birthday and he's never had a better present. Well, he's never actually had a present before, so...**

**There is some violence obviously, but nothing too graphic. This story includes slash, which is m/m, so if you don't like, don't read! Also nothing to worry about. No details.**

**So I decided that the story was crap and I'm rewriting it. Don't be too disappointed because I'm going to do it all in one hit. The first chapters aren't going to change much, but they will a little.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. If it seems like anyone else's story [besides the obvious] then I'm sorry!**

**Let's a go!**

Bellatrix cackled as she shot another cruciatus curse at the writhing body on the floor. This body belonged to an Alice Longbottom. Longbottom! What a name! Even if they were related… But Longbottom! Even if they were pure-bloods the name was hilarious! Bellatrix, the Lestrange brothers and Barty Crouch Jnr were currently at the Longbottom residence trying to find information on the disappearance of their Lord. The woman's husband… Frank? He was already gone. His mind cracked after only, what? Thirty, thirty-five cruciatus? What a wimp.

She was slowly going as well, this one. She kept twitching even after the curse had ended. She couldn't even scream anymore. It was so much fun. So much fun but still so unsatisfying. The more she tortured her, the less likely she'd be able to tell them where he was. Her _pathetic_ attempts of, 'I don't know, I don't _know_', were quickly growing old. If they weren't behind his disappearance, then why were they hiding? Who did they think they were? Keeping that sort of information from her.

She growled and screamed, but the woman still wouldn't tell her anything. It was infuriating. It wasn't fun anymore. She threw one last _cruico_ at the woman, with all the hate she felt for this _filthy blood-traitor. _The woman on the floor just stopped moving. For a minute she thought that she'd died, but then saw the slow rise and fall of her chest.

Bellatrix growled as she kicked the woman on the floor, realising that she wouldn't get anything from the wench. She was gone. Bellatrix laughed when she counted how many times she'd hit her. Forty. At least five more times than her poor excuse for a husband. A stronger woman. Just like her. She laughed again as they apparated out of the house, failing to notice the disillusionment charm which Alice had casted quickly before they came in.

In the corner of the room covered by a layer of blankets, clothes, a silencing spell and a rather strong disillusionment charm was a basket. In this basket a tiny sixteen month old baby boy was crying and calling out for the woman whose screams he had heard for the last two hours. Cries that were left unanswered by the woman lying still on the floor, occasionally twitching.


	2. Chapter 1

**How was the prologue? I didn't change it too much, but there are a few differences… So this chapter will be changed as well, and it might become longer, but I'm not sure… **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. If it seems like anyone else's story [besides the obvious] then I'm sorry!**

**Let's a go!**

Neville groaned as he rolled out of bed. The sun hadn't even risen yet and the creaky floorboards in his cramped, dingy room were like ice. The Muggle alarm clock that balanced dangerously on the wobbly stool beside his bed read 4:50 am. He yawned and rubbed the sleep dust out of his light brown eyes, stumbling over to his 'vintage' dresser. He pulled out a plain white shirt and dull brown cargo shorts, slipping a too-big faded green jumper over the top. Muggle clothes were all he had, collected from the charity bin at the end of his street. They lived in Muggle London, not too far from the Wizarding World, but much farther than his Gran-mother, a proper Pure-blood, would have liked.

Neville squeezed his tiny feet into too-small, ratty sneakers and made his was quietly through the old two-story house to his domain; the kitchen. He flattened his blond hair to a presentable level as he passed the dining room. The house wasn't big, but the one time he'd asked why they didn't move, his Gran-mother had yelled at his and beat him black and blue. He found it strange that they had no money, as they were an old Pure-blood family, or so his Gran had told him. The only reason he could think of was that his parents had left her no money. Well, technically they weren't dead yet so there wouldn't be a will.

He had been informed that when he was just a baby, his house had been raided by death-eaters and both his parents had been attacked. They now resided in the Janus Thickey Ward at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. They had been driven to insanity by the torture they endured for information they didn't have. They couldn't even recognise him. He often wondered if it would have been better for them to have died instead.

His Gran blamed him for the attack, he knew. She had never said the words aloud, but why else would she treat him so badly? And it was always there, hovering over them like a Lethifold stalking and eating its latest victim. He knew that was why she treated him like a house-elf, to order around and beat when the mood overcame her.

Neville also knew that she thought him to be a worthless squib. She told him so at every available opportunity. Despite living in the same house and not being permitted to leave unless he was buying things for her, they didn't see each other too much during the days. She would go out a lot and he just made the effort to stay out of her way. Of course, when she called for him he couldn't ignore it, so there was no way to get away from the constant verbal and physical abuse.

He would have lucky days when she only wanted to ignore him and he could focus on healing himself, or learning the things she was supposed to be teaching him. When he was six he realised that she was supposed to be telling him how to do things when he saw school children walk past the front yard. Instead of risking it and asking her to teach him he had decided to take it upon himself to learn the ways of the world. And so he did.

He taught himself to read and write, with a little help from the witch that ran Bettie's Books in Diagon alley. He knew how to handle his money, so that he wouldn't get in trouble for spending too much when he bought things for his Gran, and he knew how to buy things for himself without her finding out, by saying certain things costed more than they did, and keeping the total sum hidden.

Of course, as typical of a house-elf, he knew how to cook, clean and make decent repairs on the house, but he loved to garden. It was his only joy during the long days. He loved nature, and nature loved him.

Neville's first bout of accidental magic was when his Gran had ordered him to clean the garden. It was a struggle to do so much, and after the third time he'd scratched himself on the rose bush, he had just wished the job to be done. And lo and behold, the rose bush had untangled and trimmed itself, the grass cut to a perfect length, and the ivy that was making its slow climb up the side of the house was cut off. Luckily, no Muggles had been there to witness the magic taking place, and his Gran had been out at the time. The next time he had gone to Diagon Alley, Neville picked up some books about plants and magic, discovering a certain fondness for Herbology.

Neville also spoke to animals a lot, for lack of anyone else to talk to. The only difference was that they spoke back. His Gran had belted him the first time she found him speaking to a sparrow that had landed on the window sill he'd just painted for her. He had kept it under wraps after that. He found even more books on speaking to animals and magic during that week.

Neville snapped out of his thoughts when he reached the kitchen. He started making his Gran's breakfast. She woke at 5:10 every morning and demanded her breakfast be ready on the table for her, with him nowhere in sight. He felt useful when he cooked though, so he didn't see it as much of a punishment.

After preparing her food and having a quick breakfast himself, consisting of an assortment of fruits and some toast, he brought the food to the dining room and served the table. After making her a pot of tea as an afterthought he rushed through the house to get outside before she caught him inside again. He shuddered at the memory of what happened last time. He still had some bruises on his legs.

He had just started on the garden when he heard her moving around inside. He worked in the front garden every day from five to eight, and then moved to the back until ten. When he finished the gardens he'd go inside and shower, then prepare his Gran's lunch. After that, he'd clean the rooms assigned for the day.

It was impossible for him to clean the whole house in a day so he made a schedule to rotate within the rooms. After cleaning he'd do any repairs on the house, which usually put him at about five in the afternoon. His Gran usually left the house at around two, so this was when he had free time. He used this time to study the books he bought from Diagon alley. He hid them under the floor boards in his room. It made him feel terrible disrespecting the books like that, but he didn't want her to find them. Who knows what she'd do. The only other thing he did in this time was take care of any injuries he might have for that day and prepare his kit for the night. Every Thursday and Saturday at this time he would go out to buy the groceries for the week.

His head snapped up at the hoot of a large barn owl. He didn't recognise it from any letters that his Gran had previously received. As she landed on his outstretched arm he saw the letter grasped firmly in her beak. Smiling in gratitude and rubbing a finger against her head, he took the letter from the happy owl.

To his surprise, it was addressed to himself. To him! He actually got a letter! He flipped it over quickly to see the red seal on the back. It was from Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A grin broke out on his face as he opened the envelope. Pulling out the papers he read,

_Dear Mr Longbottom,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary nooks and equipment.  
Term begins on September the 1st. We await your owl by no later than August 15st._

_Yours Sincerely_

_Minerva McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress_

He was over the moon. Accepted into Hogwarts! Imagine that! Now he could show his Gran that he wasn't a squib after all. He knew that he wasn't as he used magic constantly, but she still denied that he was a wizard. Pulling out the equipment list he scanned what he would need to get from Diagon Alley.

_First-year students will require:_

_Uniform_

_Three Sets of Plain Work Robes (Black)_

_One Pair of Protective Gloves (dragon hide or similar)_

_One Winter Cloak (Black, silver fastenings)_

_Please note that all students' clothes should carry name-tags at all times._

_Books:_

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk_

_A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot_

_Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling_

_A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch_

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore_

_Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger_

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander_

_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble_

_Other Equipment:_

_1 Wand_

_1 Cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)_

_1 set of glass or crystal phials_

_1 telescope_

_1 set of brass scales_

_Students may also bring an Owl OR a Cat OR a Bat OR a Toad._

_PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS._

Bouncing back up the stairs to the house, he hoped that his Gran would be happy enough to see he got a Hogwarts letter to overlook the fact that he was inside the house.

Steeling his nerves, he reached for the doorknob.

**How did you guys like the chapter? Is it better than what it was originally? Comment please, and if there was something that didn't make sense, don't hesitate to ask.**

**We're meeting his Gran next chapter so be prepared.**


	3. Chapter 2

**So, Neville's gotten his acceptance letter! Sorry if that was a sort of cliff-hanger, but too bad! This one will be longer anyway so it doesn't really matter? No harm done? **

**Meeting the demon lady herself! I'm not really sure how abusers act, so this will be heaps off and over-exaggerated **

**Warning: child abuse**

**Disclaimer: Once again I own nothing but the plot, yadayadayada!**

**Let's a go!**

She was furious. He knew it. As soon as he opened the door she started screaming at him, promising cruel punishments. Taking a deep breath he kept walking, watching for anything sharp she might throw at him. Clutching the letter tight to his chest, he stopped just outside of the dining room. Standing in the hall, collecting himself, he heard his Gran muttering about the things she'd do to the 'worthless, disgusting waste of space'. He assumed correctly in thinking she was cursing him.

The owl on his shoulder let out a low hoot to comfort him. She didn't say anything, but he knew that she was just trying to calm him down. She probably didn't know he could understand her if she decided to say anything.

He walked into the dining room as she rubbed her feathery face against his pale skinny one. Neville was seriously underweight as he only ate during the mornings and at night when he could spare a minute to make some toast.

He wasn't unattractive, he knew that, as some of the shop owners would give him discounts and call him cute. It made him uncomfortable, but he was glad for the discounts. His Gran called him ugly a lot. She would tell him how disappointed she was he didn't turn out like his father, even though when he looked at old photos the similarity between them was uncanny. Blond hair, light brown eyes, light build, although he was more skin and bones than his father's subtle muscle. Small nose, light freckles. He looked pretty ordinary, well above his collar. His Gran made sure to never hit his face, just in case someone noticed when he went out. Whenever someone did notice the occasional bruise on his hand or arm if his sleeves rode up, he'd tell them the same story: that he was an accident prone, and fell down a lot. He just managed to fall down the stairs this time. He'd laugh it off and the adults would join in, with disbelieving eyes and pitying smiles that told him that they knew.

Shaking his head he walked through the entrance to the dining room and flinched when she gave a sharp, _"what?_" Yep. Furious. His Gran sat before him, arms folded and face shaped into a seemingly permanent scowl. Her glare pierced through him as he slowly approached the dining table.

"Well?" She growled at him, "What now? What's with the owl? Did it bring important news for me? Because if it did, I'm sure I told you last time you ungrateful brat, that you were to leave it on the hall table after I bathed!" He flinched at her tone and swallowed thickly before extending his arm towards her, letter in hand. She snatched it out of his grasp and he winced, hoping that his saving grace wasn't ripped. He wanted to frame it.

"Th-this owl came to me a, a little time ago… I thought you would want to read it as well, but- but if not, I'll just go back to gar-gardening now…" he stumbled through the sentence and tried not to flinch when she clucked at his stuttering. He hadn't spoken in a while so his throat was a little rough.

She tsked at him and looked at the letter in her hand. As she realised what it was she gasped and let out a chuckle. He didn't know what to make of it but he hoped it meant that he could go. She smirked up at him, which scared him _a lot_, and then cackled. This, naturally, scared him even more.

"Well, well! Look at this! The little runt isn't a squib after all! What a surprise! And here I thought you'd be useless forever! I can't wait! I'll finally be able to be rid of you! I've had to bear with you for eleven years and now I finally get a reward! Maybe you'll actually become useful and make money for me. What a nice turn of events. In two days you shall go to Diagon Alley and get your things. Then you'll stay at the inn until you have to go. I shall write now as it's the 5th. It is strange that this letter only arrived today, but it is not of importance. Now get back to gardening. And consider yourself lucky that they decided to accept a nearly squib like you." She dismissed him with a wave of her hand and he took back the letter she had dropped on the floor.

He scurried out of the room, tucking the letter into one of his pockets with the supply list. The owl cooed at him and pressed her face to his cheek again. He sighed and ran his fingers over her back.

"I'm sorry little one; I don't have any food for you. What's your name cutie?" The owl's eyes snapped open with surprise. She obviously didn't expect him to talk to her. He wasn't sure how he did it exactly. He just knew that when he wanted to speak to them, he had to put a little bit of his magic into his voice. When he first tried he didn't do so well, as he scared away most of the animals that he spoke to. His magic was too aggressive, so he had to tone it down. Now he had control over how much magic he put into his voice, so it came out smooth and soothing.

"_Freda, I am called Freda. One of the schools' owls. Grateful to meet you master Longbottom." _Her right wing spread out as she bowed. It looked a little strange, an owl bowing to him, so he decided to fix it.

"Just call me Neville okay? And I'm glad to meet your acquaintance madam Freda." He was sure, that if she could blush she would've. Her wings fluttered in her embarrassment and she tweeted. He grinned at her. She was a pretty little owl, with her wide heart shaped face and white feathers.

"Oh! I think I have some mouse traps in the back. I'm not sure if they caught anything, but you're welcome to anything in them." Her wings fluttered again as she tweeted happily. He headed round the back, making sure to avoid any windows in case his Gran looked out. After feeding Freda the mice caught in the traps, he went back to work on the front garden, smiling at any muggles that happened to walk by. If any of them noticed that he was outside working on the garden every morning they didn't show it. He personally quite liked muggles. They were usually nice to him when they spoke.

They complemented him on his garden and his singing. He loved to sing. He wasn't sure if his voice was any good or not, but the muggles seemed to like it when they heard him. He also found that it calmed almost all animals that he met as well as himself when he was stressed. Of course, his Gran didn't know about his singing. He'd probably be belted if she did. He would sometimes sing for the muggles on his street when his Gran was out. Sometimes they'd give him coins. The last time he did that was… That's right. It was his birthday and his Gran decided to go out to a pub to drown her despair in alcohol. The despair that he was born of course.

He finished up his garden duties and headed inside to make his Gran lunch. She would be upstairs now, bathing. He took her plates to the kitchen to wash after he prepared lunch. It was only 9:30 now, so he decided to make her some sandwiches and put them in the fridge. They used all muggle devices, and he assumed that his Gran paid for the rent with her personal Gringotts account. He didn't know how much money she had as she had no investments nor did she work, but he was glad to know that there was still enough money for him to buy his school equipment. _That is, if she lets me use her money,_ he thought as he put away the dishes he had washed in the laundry sink.

…

After he'd sent Freda off, back to Hogwarts with some crackers and another mouse that'd gotten caught under the house, he headed back inside. His Gran had gone out earlier to the Muggle community hall to play a Muggle game called Binja, no… Bingo, with some other neighbourhood women. He walked inside as he knew that the only repair the house needed was the sink in the kitchen. It had started leaking last night when he was washing last night's dinner plates.

He hummed softly to himself as he refixed the washer under the sink. He was lucky that the pipe hadn't cracked or something because that would take longer to fix, and he had to do some fixing of his own.

After he finished he trudged to the bathroom and stripped his bloodied shirt off to reveal the large, angry welts across his upper arms and shoulders. He was lucky this time; she had only used the belt. Most of the time she would hit him before she went out to put her in a good mood for her 'friends'. He knew that she hated them all; after all, she _was _a pure-blood. He didn't know of their opinions of her, but it seemed that they weren't too fond of her. Neville had heard the rumours around town that she abused him, they were true, yes, but the women of the town were quite fond of him and his singing.

He knew he was quite lucky as his Gran didn't have her wand anymore. She wouldn't tell him why, but it had been taken away from her a few years before he was born. He also wondered why she didn't have a lot of money. It was strange considering that they were purebloods and it was just the two of them. He hadn't seen his parents in a long time. The last time she went to St. Mungo's was probably… three years ago? Three years was a long time. But so was eleven years. Had he really been alive that long? His worst days would always start out like this, and then his thoughts would slowly spiral downwards, so far down that he'd start believing what she said, that it was his fault; if he hadn't been born they would still be 'alive'.

Those days scared him.

…

An hour later found him in the backyard, relaxing and reading a French cook book. He had realised that as soon as he had learned to read and write in English, he could also speak, read and write in _any_ other language. The woman at the book store had called him a linguist or something like that.

He was so excited that he would be going to Hogwarts. He would finally escape, even if it was just for a little while. He really wanted to make friends. To have real people to talk to that know him and actually _care_ for him… He wanted a real family.

Packing up his books, he headed inside. He walked up to his room and stashed his books away. His Gran might be home soon. Since he would be going in two days, he knew she'd work him to the bone.

**How was the second chapter? Did you like it? How am I doing? Comment please! **

**Once again, if there is anything you don't understand, or recommend for a later chapter, just leave me a message and I'll get back to you! **


	4. Chapter 3

**I'm posting chapters as I write them, so I won't be updating regularly or anything like that. Also, thanks to:**

_**fanfanfiction**_**, for being the first to make a review, and **_**SkyeLily Anonomouse, Didget, and Pointless Heart**_** for reviewing also! You guys are the best!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own brain, Yada Yada Yoda. Wait what?**

**Let's a go!**

It was 4am. He was so excited. It was the 7th and today he was going to Diagon Alley to get his things for school. The school of Witchcraft and Wizardry! Hogwarts! He still couldn't believe it. He climbed out of bed and got ready; he'd been working non-stop for the past two days so that his Gran wouldn't decide not to let him go after all.

He collected his books from under the bed and put it in the second-hand backpack he'd found in the charity collection bin when he got his clothes. The witch in Bettie's Books had put an extension charm on it for him.

After all of the books were carefully placed in the bag, he started packing his clothes. He was going to buy some new ones if he had any leftover money from the school shopping, but just in case he didn't, he would pack his old ones. After slipping on his ratty sneakers he headed downstairs to make breakfast.

Because it was so early, he was confident he'd have time to make himself a small breakfast as well as his Gran's. He decided to make her lunch as well, writing a note on the fridge for her to heat it up in the muggle microwave later. He ate his slices of toast slowly, making sure no crumbs were left behind. He washed his plate and put it back in the cupboard.

It was still too early for his Gran to be up and the garden was perfected, so he pulled out one of his animal books to wait. He was so absorbed in reading about wizards who could change their bodies to an animal form, an _Animagus,_ that he didn't notice it was already 5:05am. If it wasn't for the cacophonous _thumps_ of his Gran's boots across the upstairs floorboards, he would've been caught.

Sometimes it was lucky she was so obnoxious.

He quickly stored his book back into the backpack and stood in the kitchen, dining table already set and ready for her food. As she came downstairs and into the dining room, he made sure he looked somewhat presentable. Neville heard her annoyed grunt from the kitchen when she saw that her food was not already on the table.

As she was about to open her mouth to scream at him, he walked through the archway separating the two rooms with her breakfast tray in hand. Her mouth snapped shut with a loud _click_, and she dropped her pudgy body ungracefully into the old wooden chair that shrieked under her weight.

"What took you so long runt? I've been waiting for entirely too long for my food you stupid boy. Hurry up now, I'm not to _starve_." She clicked her fingers at him repeatedly until he placed the tray in front of her, lifting off the lid as he stepped back. She let out a disturbing happy grunting noise as she saw what he'd made for her. It was something he'd found in his _World of Food_ cookbook in the Amish section. It was called an Amish Breakfast Casserole, and it tasted quite yummy from the test he'd done while he was cooking.

As he poured her breakfast tea and retreated a few steps she looked up at him. He tried not to flinch when she raised one, thick, grey eyebrow at him. He cleared his throat to prepare for whatever might come out of his mouth next. He'd planned something to say, but it left his mind as soon as she came down.

"I, um, I decided that since this is the last day I'll be in your presence until I come back from school, I'd make you an especially nice breakfast, ma'am. I have packed prior to coming downstairs, so all I need are some funds to pay for my school equipment, and I'll be gone. Please enjoy your meal, ma'am." He tried not to stutter and keep eye contact at the same time, but it proved too hard. He just looked straight forward so he would be able to indirectly ask her for the money and not show a weak front.

It took a while for her to respond and he was getting more worried by the second. He chanced a glance at her, and gulped when he saw her still staring openly at him. He straightened up a little more when she cleared her throat.

"Very well. It wouldn't do for you to have nothing and those nuisances suspect something untoward was happening. Go to my bedroom, _don't touch anything_, and fetch the key on my dresser. It has the funds that my son left for your school in that vault. I have been using it until now, as I saw no need for you to be educated, but since you will make me money, I will allow you to use it until you make your own. Go now. Take the key and leave." She didn't have to tell him twice.

He scurried up the stairs as fast as he could and opened her door carefully, spotting the key instantly. He grabbed it and raced back down the stairs. He bowed to her as he passed the dining room doorway, before grabbing his backpack and slipping out the front door, a large grin spreading across his face.

…

Neville walked down the busy London street with his old backpack held securely on both shoulders and the vault key held tight in his hand, hidden in his jumper pocket. He didn't want it to get lost. It was the only thing his Gran had ever given him, and he'd be damned to an eternity drifting through the veil before losing it.

As he turned the corner to the main street, he caught sight of the Leaky Cauldron. The pub did look quite ugly from the outside, with the dark dirty walls and blackened windows. The sign that only appeared to those who were wizards or knew of the world of magic was old and yellowed, giving the pub an overall look of _don't go in there, don't do it, DON'T DO IT!_

He continued towards the pub, but before he could get to the door, a group of Muggle adults appeared from a nearby alley. He hoped they weren't there to cause any trouble. He walked forward swiftly, gripping his bag strap tightly with one hand and his key in the other, and approached the pub. They saw him immediately, and a few called out to him. He ignored them. They got louder. He pretended he couldn't hear them.

Neville was nearly to the door. He'd go in, greet Tom, and ask him politely to open the bricks for him to go to Diagon alley. Except he didn't. Just before he reached the door, a large brutish male grabbed his shoulder. Neville squeaked and twisted away from him, in hopes of getting inside.

He was grabbed again and spun around to face the street and away from the only place he wanted to be right now. Why were these Muggles out here? Why wouldn't they let him go inside? They were well dressed and clean, so he assumed it wasn't to rob him. He hadn't realised that he was whimpering until one of the other Muggles, a woman this time, slapped the man's hand away from Neville's shoulder.

The woman had caked her face in a lot of make-up that was probably unnecessary and had plastered a fake smile on. He could smell her floral perfume from where he was standing. She came closer to him, and he saw her face attempt to soften as she took in his appearance. It was made impossible by the products she had used to glue her face together. She spoke up in a high voice that she probably thought was comforting.

"Hey, sweetie, are you lost? It's okay if you are, we'll show you where to go. I'm sorry about this guy, he's just very tired. What's your name, honey?" He didn't respond. He had to find a way out of this situation somehow. He was supposed to be smart. What could he do to get away from them and into the pub?

Neville saw that the group was getting aggravated by his silence, so he shook his head quickly. The woman was confused for a second before she understood what he meant.

"I think you might be, because this isn't a place for kids, honey. What are you doing out so early in the morning by yourself?" He was running multiple plans through his head as she spoke, not paying attention to a word she was saying. When he noticed that she was getting annoyed as well he just shook his head again.

"Don't you speak? Or are you scared? I'm sorry, let's start again, okay? My name is Linda, what's yours?" He decided on a play and answered in his most childish voice.

"My name's Lucas. I'm not lost. I'm meeting Uncle Tommy. He told me to wait over there, and he'd come and get me. I'm not supposed to speak to strangers. Can I go now?" He waited for them to respond. If they did something else that could be seen as threatening, he could cry and make a break for the doorway. It was only a few metres away.

The man that had grabbed him in the first place reached for him and he very visibly flinched. The reaction was immediate. Their faces began to close off and he knew what they were assuming. He could do it now. He took a few steps back and bumped into another man that had circled around him. Jolting forward, he wrapped his hands around his middle and made tears form in his eyes.

"Please let me go, I won't come here again, I promise. I'll give you my book, just let me go," the fake tears started to fall and all of the Muggles panicked and backed off very quickly as he started to shake. As soon as there was an opening, he sprinted off towards the door, ignoring their shouts of surprise. He knew they would be chasing him so he ran as fast as he could and just managed to make it inside when one of them reached for his backpack.

He was greeted by the familiar darkness of the Leaky Cauldron. There was the smell of tobacco in the air, and there weren't too many patrons in today. He sighted Tom, the owner and barman, cleaning some dirty glasses. He smiled at some old ladies in the back corner who seemed to be enjoying their tea. There was a small man in a top hat sitting at the bar, and a younger looking man sitting at one of the many round wooden tables reading a Muggle book sitting in the far corner near the Floo-place. He made his way towards Tom and smiled when the round man grinned down at him.

"Hello Neville! Going through to Diagon today? Shopping for school?" Neville nodded. "Merlin, has it been that long since I met you? Eleven already! Growing up so fast! Just give me a second lad, and I'll have the back opened up for you." Neville quickly spoke up before Tom could make his way around the bar.

"Sorry Tom, but could I possibly also ask you to keep a room for me until term? You see… my Gran's going on a trip and didn't want me to stay in the house all by myself so I thought I'd stay here for a while. I don't know if I've enough money for the whole time, but I'll see when I get back?" He felt kind of bad for lying to Tom, but the man only smiled and nodded, assuring him that he'd save a room just for him. Neville then followed Tom through to the little opening in the back and waited for Tom to tap the right bricks before the bricks opened up and Diagon Alley was revealed to him once again.

Rays of early morning sunshine shone through and touched the Neville's face as glimpses of colour were revealed. The sounds were almost explosive, no matter how little people were there. There would be more people in the alley than Neville's usual visits, seeing as most parents would be bringing their children to get their school equipment for the year around this time. Shopping really did take the whole day, so most got in early, especially the first years, as they were the most inexperienced around this type of environment.

When the bricks were fully parted and Diagon Alley was completely visible in front of them, Neville gasped. All of the shops were lit up, splashes of colours everywhere. There were so many things in the shops and so many people walking through them, some empty handed and the ones that had gotten in even earlier had many bags. There was so much noise, from children's excited yells to the groans of many a parent whose child had run off, or found something a little too expensive.

Needless to say, Neville was absolutely amazed by it all. It didn't matter how many times he'd seen it, the Alley never lost its charm.

There were so many happy children milling about with their parents, but Neville couldn't find it within himself to be jealous of them. Neville's hand slipped back into his pocket to check the key was still there. When his fingertips brushed the cold gold of his key he felt reassured. He'd nearly forgotten about it in all the excitement of the past few minutes.

He thanked Tom and made his way forward through the crowd towards his first destination; right down the end of the alley was a massive white building with crooked pillars holding up the roof. The set of white stairs led to a pair of massive burnished bronze doors. On the architrave of the building the words Gringotts Bank was engraved into the white stone, tinted with gold.

**This chapter was much longer than the other two, and much longer than what it was before, so I hope you liked it.**

**Please comment!**


	5. Chapter 4

**Hey guys! So I hope you guys didn't mind that I completely changed the last chapter. And anyone new, I just up and got rid of the character that was introduced in that chapter, because my plans for them have changed. **

**Disclaimer: So I own nothing but the plot, I get no money from this, hope you like the chapter.**

**Let's a go!**

Neville's head was spinning left and right rapidly, trying to absorb everything he saw, from the newest brooms in both _Quality Quidditch Supplies _and the _Broomstix _shop windows,to the stacks of books nearly flowing from the front of _Bettie's Books _and _Flourish and Blotts. _

Neville finally reached the huge white stairs and looked around him to see two Goblins flanking the doors in uniforms of scarlet and gold. They didn't look too happy to see anyone in the alley, but their eyes did show a pleased sort of shock when Neville grinned and waved at them. It was the first time meeting a Goblin for Neville, and he didn't want to offend the Goblins in any way. Neville knew Gobbledegook, but had never had the chance to have a conversation with another speaker of the language before.

The Goblins pushed open the large doors for him, as he never would have been able to manage it with his slight frame. When he walked by Neville bowed and greeted them in proper Gobbledegook, to the surprise of the Goblins.

The Goblins seemed to smile slightly at him, even if it looked like more of a grimace before he continued through. Inside the entrance hall was another set of doors, silver this time. Engraved on the doors were the words,

_Enter, stranger, but take heed; _  
_of what awaits the sin of greed._  
_For those who take, but do not earn; _  
_must pay most dearly in their turn._  
_So if you seek beneath our floors; _  
_a treasure that was never yours, _  
_Thief, you have been warned, beware; _  
_of finding more than treasure there._

Neville just smiled and wondered what types of defences were in place, not even contemplating stealing a Knut from a Goblin.

These doors were open enough for Neville to just slip through without having to embarrass himself by asking for assistance to open a door. He walked into a vast marble hall with long counters stretching along its length. There were numerous doors on either side of the hall, of which Neville assumed led to the many vaults. At each counter sat a well-dressed Goblin, all writing furiously onto the pages in front of them. A few looked up at him and Neville smiled at them all.

Neville gripped his key tightly in his hand and walked forward slowly, trying not to disturb them from their work_._ It was silent except for the scribbles of the Goblin's quills on the pages and his own footsteps.

Neville gained the attention of the Goblin at the main desk by greeting him in Gobbledegook. The Goblin looked down his nose at him before grinning, showcasing his sharp teeth, probably with the intention of scaring him, but nonetheless, he grinned back. The Goblin settled back a little, but before he could say anything Neville spoke up.

"I would like to take some money from my vault, please. My name is Neville Longbottom. I would also like to speak to someone about my vaults, as I assume I may have more than this one. May I also request a medical check-up for myself? It would be most appreciated, and I will compensate you for your troubles." Neville made sure not to stutter and kept eye-contact with the Goblin for as long as he could before his eyes darted around nervously again, spying another Goblin to the side weighing some large rubies.

"I will have another Goblin take you to your vaults, and then we will see about those check-ups. It is very wise of you to ask us. I will be sure to see you are taken proper care of. Would you prefer to go to your vaults first?" Neville knew the Goblin was being very respectful towards him, when he had no need to be anything other than civil. Neville nodded and smiled gratefully.

Neville waited as the Goblin called for another Goblin. Neville smiled and greeted the new Goblin in Gobbledegook before bowing to the one at the counter and heading off with the Goblin who introduced himself as Bloodhorn.

Bloodhorn led Neville through a door to the left of the counter. It wasn't an overly extravagant door or anything, but Neville could feel a little bit of magic coming from it, telling him the Goblins used wards and that there would be a lot of magical defences where they would be going.

He was content to just take it all in and respect the way the Goblins had dug out the vaults as they walked through the tunnel. When they reached the end of the tunnel Bloodhorn reached for a lantern and a cart rolled up to them through the darkness.

It was large enough to fit the two of them easily and Bloodhorn took the front before gesturing for Neville to take the back. The Goblin driving the rusted cart grunted at Neville, but Neville greeted him with the same respect he had treated all of the others they'd met. As Bloodhorn, Neville and the third Goblin sped off, he vaguely heard the booming voice of what could only be a very large man speaking to what sounded like a young boy, probably around Neville's own age.

Before he could hear any more their cart took off at an astonishing speed down the tracks into the darkness.

Neville squealed in shock before laughing briefly. It was fun, but he knew the Goblins were probably tired of hearing such things on their journeys to the depths of their own banks. He suddenly realised something and leant forward towards Bloodhorn, speaking quietly into the Goblin's pointed ear,

"I'm sorry but I was wondering if I may request a Magical and Inheritance check from you also. It would be much appreciated." He wondered if the Goblin had even heard him before the other nodded and spoke just as quietly, although his voice betrayed a bit of his relief.

"It would be most acceptable Mr. Longbottom. In regards of your tests, it would be quite easy for me to do all of your tests at the same time in my office. Would you like to visit your vault first before your tests or have the tests first? I would recommend the latter as you might of inherited something else and be able to visit those vaults as well, instead of having to go back and forth." Neville nodded along before agreeing with the Goblin and asking to have his tests first. Bloodhorn turned to the other Goblin and spoke to him, the other nodding before changing their direction to another track off to the side. Bloodhorn turned back to Neville and asked him a question he hadn't been expecting.

"So how does one as young as you come to know out ancient language Mr. Longbottom? It is quite unusual that your kind would respect us as much as to greet us in our own language." Neville smiled before answering shyly.

"I'd much prefer it if you called me Neville, Master Goblin Bloodhorn, and well; I just kind of know it. The witch at a bookstore in Diagon Alley called me a linguist, so that might be it, but I've just always known how to speak it. Of course, today was the first that I've actually met a Goblin so I wasn't too sure if I was correct, but it seems like I was. I think it might have something to do with my magic though. You see, I can also speak any human language and I can speak to animals as well. I'm not sure if that's common in wizards or not but it's just something that I do." Bloodhorn looked quite shocked before muttering something to himself and responding.

"Alright then Neville, just call me Bloodhorn. I have never heard of a wizard with your abilities, but I'm sure that it isn't a bad thing. We'll find out if it has anything to do with your inheritance when we do the checks. You shouldn't worry about it not being normal, as it just makes you even more special, young wizard." Neville blushed at the compliment and turned to the side, losing himself in thought.

He barely noticed the cart come to a stop at a small ledge off to the side. He flinched at the sight of a gnarled hand in front of his face when he turned back around. Bloodhorn quickly lunged forward to grab Neville's shirt before he could go toppling over the opposite side of the cart. Neville blushed a furious shade of red before grasping the same hand and carefully stepping over the edge and onto the solid ledge. If Neville had looked up, he would've seen the worried glance of his now favourite person, _ever, _at the sight of the diminutive minor reacting negatively to something that usually held no reaction at all. Bloodhorn vowed to himself to get to the bottom of the mystery that was Neville Longbottom.

Neville gulped and looked down, down, and further down, the cavern below them seeming endless. He had nearly fallen down _there. _He turned back to the Goblin at his side when his sleeve was tugged and followed him along a narrow corridor he hadn't seen before, shrouded in shadow.

Bloodhorn still had his lantern so it wasn't too dark, but Neville still lost his footing a few times on the way up. The passage opened up into a larger, poorly lit cavern that had multiple carts on either side of the rocky ground they were standing on.

Bloodhorn didn't stop and made his way over to a more secure looking cart on the right side of the tracks and gestured for Neville to hop on before doing so himself. Neville made sure he was seated correctly for the ride before Bloodhorn started it up and the cart started the much gentler ride up to the surface. As they came to a fork in the tracks Bloodhorn changed the cart to go on the left, where Neville could only assume the Goblin's offices were.

This passage was lit much better and Bloodhorn stopped the cart almost as soon as the cart turned in. Neville saw around the Goblin that this was because the passage with the offices was not set up like the vaults in the sense that the floor was solid wood floorboards from where they were until the end of the hallway, with multiple wooden doors on either side. The doors were simple wood with brass handles and opaque glass where the Goblin's names were written. They walked for a few short minutes until they came across Bloodhorn's own office where he was led inside a posh looking suite.

Neville was pleasantly surprised with the state of the room. It wasn't like he was expecting something bad, or out of shape, but the room that greeted them was one he wouldn't mind being in for a while. The door led into a warm, rich office room; a large dark brown leather sofa and two matching chairs were positioned in front of an ornate fireplace; a mahogany desk and chair stood in an alcove underneath a large tapestry that depicted some many Goblins fighting in seemed to be a battle of epic proportions, with two smaller, but looking no less comfortable, chairs opposite desk chair. The other walls were lined with tall imposing bookcases made of a dark wood. The floor was wood, but there was a carpet near the fireplace and the desk, making the room seem much more accommodating. There were candles lining the walls and a large chandelier in the middle of the room holding what seemed like thousands of candles to illuminate the room. The fire was lit so the room was quite toasty, which made Neville glad, because he had been getting quite cold in the cart.

As Neville stepped into the room, Bloodhorn closed the door behind him and hung the lantern on a modest hook that the open door had previously hidden. When the door closed Neville could feel the magic click the locks shut which made him glad, as he didn't want anyone to come in when he was having his medical examination, in case they saw his injuries.

**I know this one ends weirdly, but the chapters got all confused and stuff so bear with me, won't you? I hope you guys liked this chapter and please leave a comment. Please.**


	6. Chapter 5

**Hello again! This chapter should be longer than the others, I think, so enjoy!**

**I do not own anything in this story, except for the plot.**

**Let's a go!**

Bloodhorn led him to the leather couch and sat himself in one of the matching armchairs. He smiled at Neville, putting the undersized youngster's nerves to rest before clearing his throat and summoning a small table and some of the ritual equipment. He looked up to see the juvenile on the couch send him an awed look at the use of wandless magic. He allowed the fledgling another small grin before speaking up.

"Now this test will be the longest of the three as it takes in all physical health aspects, from a broken bone to a paper-cut. I also will heal you if anything comes up, or prescribe you with the correct potions to get your body back on track. As it is, I think you could use some nourishment potions as you seem a bit smaller than one your age should. If you have had any broken bones in the past that haven't set back right, I'll also have to re-break them before fixing them myself. Don't worry though, as you'll be asleep for anything like that. Now, is there anything else before we start?" He noted how the boy looked a little nervous, but just put it to the possibility of pain, well, until the youth spoke up.

"Well, I just... could you please just not judge me on anything you may find? And, and you can't tell _anyone_, okay? Please, I just... please don't. And how long could I be asleep for? What's the maximum time? If I'm in here for a long time do you have to wake me up to kick me out of the bank or is there a medical room or something like that?" The boy's voice was faint and the Goblin was deeply disturbed by the request before schooling his emotions and nodding. It wouldn't do him any good to become attached to the little sprog. Somewhere deep in his mind a small voice told him that he already was. Neville felt bad for asking, but…

"And you promise that you won't tell? You won't just go behind my back and tell everyone?" Bloodhorn was a little taken back by the question, but chose not to be offended. After all, the sprog was just looking out for himself.

"Neville, one thing that Goblins value highly is strength. Our Bank's motto is this: '_Fortius Quo Fidelius'. _That means 'Strength through Loyalty'. I will not reveal your secrets to anyone without your express permission." Bloodhorn watched as Neville practically deflated in front of him in relief.

Neville sighed, glad that the Goblin would do this for him. He was still a bit nervous though, as the Goblin he'd come to like would see his injuries and not want to be friendly with him anymore. He just knew it. He'd see what was wrong and he'd be disgusted and he'd never want to deal with Neville again. Before Neville's thoughts could go much deeper, Bloodhorn spoke up again.

"Alright then, Neville, I'm going to start scanning you now. The actual healing may take up to a maximum of six hours but the scan will only take a few minutes. This scan will only show physical damage, like broken bones and cuts and the like. The injuries will appear on the scroll that appears after I have scanned it and will list the injuries you have suffered and the dates of the most recent ones will appear. Let's start. Lay on your back on the sofa. Now try not to move too much." With that he waved one hand over Neville's left leg and held the other out for the piece of parchment that would appear. When it did, he was quite shocked. Usually the parchment would only be about the size of a small greeting card, but this, _this_, was _terrible_. It was easily the size of one of the Scrolls of Law that were buried deep in the depths of the bank. And it was _just one leg_.

Neville flinched when he saw the shocked and disgusted look on Bloodhorn's face as he read through the scroll. He knew it. Bloodhorn was completely disgusted with him now, and it was only one leg. What would he think when he saw the rest? He was wrong. He shouldn't have gotten the health check. Bloodhorn would hate him. Just like his Gran.

Bloodhorn snapped out of his revere when he saw movement from the corner of his eye. His eyes turned fully to see Neville's head lower in shame, his eyes water and the small bite of his lip. A pang of utter sadness overtook the regal Goblin completely by surprise when he realised that the sprog thought that he was disgusted at _him _and not the _monster_ that had hurt the wonderful child. He acted on instinct and placed his hand on Neville's leg softly, trying to reassure the lad, but only feeling worse as the sprog flinched at the touch. He took his hand off and raised the tiny wizard's head so they could meet eyes, and he tried to convey the concern he was feeling to Neville without speaking. He worried when the distraught, light brown eyes started to fill with tears before he realised that he was crying because Bloodhorn _didn't _hate him, and that was all it took for Bloodhorn to drop the scroll and gently lean the petite boy into a hug. It wasn't long until the boy broke down and cried as his small hands clutched desperately to Bloodhorn's coat, to the point of his knuckles turning white with the need for him to know that this was real.

...

Not even ten minutes later Neville had stopped crying and had flushed and apologised for wetting Bloodhorn's coat. The Goblin had chuckled and easily forgiven him. Neville dreaded the rest of the test but nodded to the Goblin as he passed him a handkerchief and asked to continue the scan.

Bloodhorn then moved to his right leg, then both feet and hands, before moving to his arms, right first this time, head, then shoulders. He had gasped in pain when the Goblin had accidently moved his injured shoulder and the Goblin had apologised immediately, even after he told him that it wasn't a big deal. Bloodhorn had then scanned his chest, abdomen and waist before scanning his back. Bloodhorn had made a disgusted sound at the sight of the still raw welts on his back from the belting but before Neville could take it badly again he placed a clawed, long-fingered hand on his un-injured shoulder and muttering some encouraging words in Gobbledegook.

By the time the scan was done, Bloodhorn was furious at Neville's caretakers and Neville was quite tired. Bloodhorn suggested a quick snack before he got to healing as Neville would be going into a short healing sleep that he had informed would only take five-and-a-half of the six hours to be completely healed. Neville had agreed and they had had a short, pleasant chat about Neville's talents at singing where the Goblin had insisted on having a short show that both distracted Neville from the test results and blew Bloodhorn's mind at the angelic voice that came out from this poor soul that had ended up with the short end of the stick in life, with the worst possible type of guardian that the boy hadn't brought up yet.

When Bloodhorn decided that they had eaten quite enough he instructed the sprog to lie down again on the couch after removing his shirt and pants. The child was painfully shy, but followed his orders without comment, although obviously very glad when Bloodhorn conjured a white sheet to cover him.

Bloodhorn had then instructed him to close his eyes and imagine the place where he felt the safest, shocking the Goblin when Neville quickly sat up and memorised what the room looked like before sinking back into the cool leather. This simple gesture had both warmed and broken Bloodhorn's usually cold heart as he realised that the place Neville felt the safest in was his own office, and that was because he'd never had any other place to feel safe.

When Neville had settled down again, Bloodhorn placed one hand over his eyes and lulled him into sleep with his magic and then set to work healing the boy. He was devastated by the fact that he would have to break nearly _every_ _bone_ in Neville's neck down and then heal them again. In truth, even though the longest the procedure goes for was six hours, the longest in their bank history was only two-and-a-quarter hours, and that had been an adult wizard whom had been caught in a raid and stumbled into the bank, and that was nearly fifteen years ago now.

He was infuriated by the fact that this procedure was necessary and even more so when he realised the trauma the sprog's mind would have gone through with all of the _torture_ that had been inflicted onto his tiny body; because this treatment was absolutely nothing short of it.

...

Five-and-a-half hours later, Bloodhorn was extremely exhausted and Neville felt better than he ever had. He thanked the regal Goblin when he was brought out of his magically induced sleep and listened to his report.

"I've healed everything so your growth should be back on track with the nourishment potions I'll have made and delivered to you within the week. There are some scars that I was unable to heal, mainly your back, some burns of your hands, and the one large scar on your left arm, but all others should have disappeared completely. We'll move onto your Inheritance test next, so redress and we'll move to my desk. I'll call for some tea." Neville smiled at the weary Goblin before remembering what he'd brought as immediate payment from his herb garden.

"Bloodhorn," he flushed slightly at how loud it had come out and when the Goblin turned back with a raised eyebrow and a smirk he continued, "I brought some of my own dried tea leaves that I've grown as some form of instant payment, so just hot water would be needed, I mean, if you want them now, or at all, or just... never mind." His flush darkened with his stumbling before Bloodhorn chuckled and conjured some tea cups and a tea pot full of boiling water and placed them on his desk. He turned again and Neville pulled on his ratty clothes before sitting on one of the chairs opposite Bloodhorn whom was rifling through his desk for more ritual equipment and Inheritance parchment. Neville reached forwards and pulled the tea pot a little closer, wary to not burn himself, and used his special blend.

He'd discovered it when he was in the herb garden and two of his tea plants had accidently merged, creating a sweet smelling, spicy tasting tea that his Gran took with her lunches sometimes. Of course, she'd been furious the first time he'd used it because it was a change to her schedule and she wasn't prepared for the new taste, but she'd come to like it. That was also when he'd discovered his ability to merge two plants together. So far none of the ones he'd used had ended badly, seeing as he tested most on himself first. He'd made a few new healing balms that he was quite proud of that both numbed pain and worked on the wound. Nev had thought about giving a few to the Hogwarts medical bay when he arrives.

He smiled when the sweet smelling aroma filled the room and watched the Goblin's reaction to it. He figured that the Goblin would get a surprise with the sudden change of taste of the tea. It smelt and tasted sweet in the beginning, but then it fills your mouth with spice and bursts of flavour, while regaining that sweet smell, providing the perfect contrast. By the Goblin's original reaction Nev figured that Goblins aren't too fond of sweet teas. He could barely suppress his mischievous grin as he poured the tea into the cups before calmly sipping his own. Bloodhorn had made sure the temperature was tolerable before the pot was given to Neville.

Nev watched as the Goblin raised his own tea before taking a large sip. At first his face was thoughtful, as if trying to place a taste, before turning to sudden shock. He sent his nasty grin at the laughing sprog across the large desk before taking another sip. He was amazed. This tea would sell very well in many markets. He was also glad that the boy was relaxed enough to play a small prank on him, as surprising as it had been. He cackled in his mind with how the other Goblins would react to this.

They spent the next few minutes discussing the possibility of Neville selling this tea. While he was excited at the prospect, Nev had no idea how to do any of that, so he decided to sell it to the Goblins for them to then sell as their own, while he would supply them with the tea and get some profit. He decided that it would be 60-40, as he had no need for so much money, but Bloodhorn wouldn't take more than 60%. Bloodhorn realised that Neville would be a great business partner in the future for anyone, even if he was a little too humble. Neville gave the rest of his dried leaves to Bloodhorn, and even some seeds. He considered himself lucky, that he could form any seed in his hand, as long as he knew what the end result of the plant should be. Sometimes magic was just amazing.

**Next time Neville will have both his Inheritance and Magical test, so get ready for some better stuff. There shouldn't be anything too bad for a while. **

**Comment please?! Just a few would make me really happy! See you next time!**


	7. Chapter 6

**Hey guys! What's up? So I'm alive… So sick right now…**

**So last time Nev had his Health check and some tea, but this this time he'll have his Inheritance and Magical check. This will hopefully also be longer than the other chapters. I'm really sorry it's been so long, but I had writer's block, and by the time I got over it, I was sent to hospital… so… yeah. I'll give this my best shot! **

**Also my friend, who is one of the most amazing artist's I've ever seen has been drawing me some little sketches of our dear boy… and I squeal uncontrollably every time I see them… heh**

**Disclaimer: I own naught but the plot**

**Let's a go!**

When they'd finished their tea and all plans had been taken care of, Bloodhorn slid the ritual equipment to the centre of the desk and took the dagger in hand.

"Give me your hand. I'm going to slice your palm so some blood can drip into the bowl. After I'm done with it we'll be able to see what vaults you'll be able to access and if you're the heir to any other families." Neville stuck his hand out over the silver ritual bowl and waited for the cut. Bloodhorn took his hand in between long, gnarled fingers and sliced a horizontal line from his thumb to the edge of his palm. Neville watched as streams of blood dripped from the wound and into the small silver bowl, before the cut healed itself. He drew the palm close to his face, amazed; as the blood flow gradually stopped and the skin regrew rapidly, weaving his palm back together, like it was a piece of fabric being sewn up. Bloodhorn waved his hands over the blood-filled bowl and muttered lowly in Gobbledegook. The blood glowed for a moment before Bloodhorn lifted the bowl and poured some onto the parchment in front of him, before dipping a bronze feathered quill into the blood and holding it over the parchment.

Neville watched on, entranced, as the blood slowly started to move into straight lines and curves, before the quill descended onto the parchment and started to complete the letters itself. When the quill finally stopped and dropped back onto Bloodhorn's desk, the regal Goblin looked both surprised and pleased.

"Well, Neville, some good news at last." Nev smiled at the Goblin as he waited for whatever he decided was 'good luck'. "You're quite wealthy. You are the heir to both the Noble and Ancient House of Longbottom and the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. It seems that your mother, Alice, never took her title as Black heir, probably because she didn't know, it states here that she was Blood Adopted into another family. Since the only Blacks that could take the name are both in Azkaban and the other has refused, only you are able to take on the position. You're only eleven, so you cannot take the Lord title, but you can grant it to your guardian. I strongly suggest that you do not do so. So, do you want to accept your titles?" Neville leaned back into his chair. Merlin, he _was _rich.

If he took the titles he could definitely look after himself; get good quality school things, new clothes, and more books! Maybe he could even get a pet! He had heard his Gran speaking to an Uncle of his, who was trying to buy him a toad. She had of course refused the offer, saying that Neville would probably kill it, but he hadn't stopped thinking about getting an animal since. And, he wouldn't even have to share any of it with his Gran! Although, if he became heir to the Longbottoms, his Gran would most definitely be informed in some way… But, heir to the Blacks as well… Did that make him a Black? Could he become a Black?

"Bloodhorn, if I so choose, could I take the title of heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, and not the Longbottom?" He sighed in relief as the Goblin grinned and nodded his head. Neville didn't know, but just saying that had cemented in Bloodhorn's mind that it was definitely a Longbottom that was abusing him.

Neville nodded to himself, planning ways to keep all of this under his Gran's nose. If he did get any mail that went to the house, she would read it. A Gringotts envelope with Longbottom written on it would catch her attention, even if it wasn't for her. Though, there was the possibility that it wouldn't say Longbottom…

"Is it possible that I may change my name? Here and now? I would like to take on the title of Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, if you could do so without my Guardian being informed, please." Bloodhorn smirked and summoned a black velvet box onto the desk in front of them. On the top was what Neville assumed to be the Black family crest. The main body was a shield, with a skull directly above it. There were vines sprouting from the skull that ran down the sides of the shield. The top section of the shield was red with black stars on it, with an armoured arm holding a wand in the centre. The next section was a simple dark blue arrow shape, pointing down, leading into the next section, which was white. There were three ravens in a triangle formation. Underneath the shield was a curved white section, imitating parchment, which had the family's motto, '_Toujours pur' _written on it in cursive writing. Neville translated it to, '_Always Pure'_.

The box turned to face Neville and opened, showing a simple ring made of white gold, with the family's crest on a black background in the centre. He looked up to Bloodhorn, who only nodded, before picking up the ring gently, and slipping it on to his new, healthy, right hand ring finger. The ring slid on easily, being too big for his finger, before it tightened and started to warm up. He assumed it was the family magic testing him. He entertained the thought for a slight moment that if it were to reject him it'd probably burn off his finger, but it quickly started to cool and he relaxed.

Just as it appeared to be over and Neville was slightly disappointed at the fact that not much had happened, a burst of warm magic shot out from the ring and enveloped his entire body. He could feel it flowing around and into him, changing his body. After a few moments it stopped and the glow surrounding his body dimmed before completely vanishing and Neville saw Bloodhorn summon a full-length mirror next to his desk. He stood up slowly and approached it, gasping when he caught a look at his new self.

His face had thinned down, his jaw sharper, cheekbones higher. There were no more blemishes on his face, and it had become paler, making him look very aristocratic. His ears had become much smaller and didn't stick out as much, almost looking a little pointier. He opened his mouth and saw all of his teeth had fixed themselves, become small and perfectly straight. His body was even smaller, but looked a lot healthier thanks to Bloodhorn's work. His hair was the biggest surprise though. He'd expected that it might become a little darker, but it had completely changed; what was once blonde was now an orange-red with black streaks, and long enough to tie. It looked smooth and silky instead of his usual messy mop. In his shocked state, all that was running through his mind was that his hair reminded him very much of a tiger.

Neville made his way back to his chair when he caught the Goblin's amused chuckle at his admiring of himself. Bloodhorn smirked at him and he flushed before clearing his throat and sitting up a little straighter. Bloodhorn became serious instantly and looked back down at the parchment.

"Just before we organise your name changing, I'll finish your inheritance, and then we'll move onto your magical test. The reason that you're able to speak all languages, and talk to animals is because you've inherited something called Omnilingualism. It's from your father's side, but none in the family have been powerful enough to use it for centuries. I am unsure why your hair changed colour like that, as you haven't inherited any other family magic, but no matter. Next, you've inherited only one property as there has been no wills read in your lifetime. The property is the Longbottom mansion, which by my sources here, has defences nearly on par with the bank itself. The only restriction is that one Augusta Longbottom has been denied use of any kind, but that doesn't affect you in any way." At this, Neville noticed Bloodhorn scanning his face for any reaction, but Neville only smiled and nodded. He knew what Bloodhorn was trying to do. It shocked him slightly, that his Gran was denied entrance, but he reassured himself, knowing he'd research the situation later. He wouldn't give away anything to the Goblin. He'd already done more than enough to help Neville; there was no way Neville was going to take up more of his time.

The irritable Goblin huffed before turning back to the parchment, scanning it to see if there was anything else that would be of use to the sprog. His beady eyes widened slightly at the vault information before glancing back up at the anxious boy.

"Now, you have access to both your trust vault and the main Black family vaults. Your trust vault, from the Longbottom's, holds 15 000 Galleons, 6 000 Sickles, and 336 Knuts. In regards to their main family vault, you won't be able to access it until you come of age or become the heir, so I cannot tell you anything about it. The Black family vaults are considerably larger than it though. With just the Black family vaults under your possession, you are the fourth richest Pureblood heir in Britain. Since no one has managed the vaults for quite some time, the investments are questionable at best." Neville interrupted Bloodhorn before he could continue, speaking quickly to draw the Goblin's attention.

"W-would it be possible if, if you could manage my vaults until I am of age? It would be much appreciated and I would know my money is in safe hands. It's alright if you don't though, I'm sure you have other things to do with your time, you know what never mind, it was stupid I'll just-" Bloodhorn held up a hand to silence him.

"I would be honoured to, Neville. I'll hand them over to you when you are of age, but I'll take care of all the nasty business now. There were some investments from the… _darker_ side of the family I wouldn't want knowing about you just yet. But, when I start changing things around, people will know that there is a Black heir. The remaining Blacks have already been informed of you through what little family magic they have left." Neville nodded along. It was true then. The Blacks were quite dark. He'd heard a rumour about one of them being less so, but he was thrown in Azkaban along with his cousin.

"Now, shall we continue? You wanted to change your name?" Neville nodded before sitting back and watching as Bloodhorn prepared the papers that would complete his life change. He thought about the name that he wanted. He had heard that it was a Black tradition to be named after stars, so after asking Bloodhorn for a star-chart and spending a few minutes deciding, he finally found a perfect name.

Bloodhorn slid the papers towards him and he was careful to print his new name neatly.

_Corvus Leonis Black. _

…

Bloodhorn watched, amused, as the sprog in front of him grinned goofily about his name change for the next few minutes, not even dropping it when he was asked for more blood to complete the magic test. He did lose it though, when he noticed the furious look on Bloodhorn's face as he read the magical test. The sprog's face turned to shock, then gradually drew darker and closed as Bloodhorn read out the words in front of him.

He had blocks. Someone had put blocks on his magic. His _life force _and someone had _blocked _it. Bloodhorn growled in frustration before standing swiftly and pacing behind his desk to calm down before marching to the drawers and pulling out some foul-smelling potions.

"This potion will remove the blocks on your magic overall. This one is for the verbal spell block, and this for the balance block. This will get rid of the restraining one, and this one will get rid of the blocks on your senses." Bloodhorn conjured up a large glass of water for him so he could down the potions easily.

He took them one-by-one, each tasting worse than the last. Bloodhorn passed him the water as soon as he chocked down the last potion. It was then that it started to burn. He barely had time to place the glass back on the desk, although he felt that he'd probably just thrown it.

His insides were on fire, and pushing, and pulling, and he felt as if he was going to be torn apart. His insides were pulsing and he could feel his core pushing against these bands, these thick heavy bands that were constraining him, keeping his core small. He screamed as he felt them _snap! _One by one, breaking and falling apart. He was panting by the time they were done, but he felt better than he ever had before.

…

Bloodhorn had then taken Corvus down to his trust vault which he had emptied into a bottomless bag and placed in his backpack. He has a lot of shopping to do. They headed down to the Black vaults and Corvus looked around in the heirlooms section, careful not to touch anything, just in case it was cursed… eventually he came across a small box covered by layers of cloths and women's jewellery. It was brown and had a faded symbol on top, though it was obvious to Corvus that it had been the Black family crest. He quickly turned to Bloodhorn to see if it had been cursed, and when Bloodhorn gave him the go-ahead, he opened it up to find the most amazing bracelet he'd ever seen. It looked to be a dragon hide band, with silver weaved through it and at the top, there was a thin silver plate that had a gorgeous Sardinian dragon engraved on it.

…

A few minutes and some more tea later, Corvus was getting ready to leave. After confirming some more small details with Bloodhorn he was standing and thanking him, pulling his backpack onto his smaller shoulders. Just as he turned to walk back out the door, another Goblin rushed in and he heard Bloodhorn breathe a sigh of relief. He watched the interaction between the two, where the unknown Goblin handed a small package to Bloodhorn, who, in return gave him a few Galleons.

Corvus turned back to Bloodhorn with a quizzical look in his face when the other Goblin rushed back out of the room, shutting the door behind him again. Bloodhorn cleared his throat and handed Corvus the package gently. Corvus carefully unwrapped it and gasped when he caught sight of the shining gold inside.

"Bloodhorn… I couldn't possibly take this… this is Goblin Gold. And by the looks of it, it's enchanted… Thank you so much, but I won't be able to steal this from you." As Corvus tried to hand it back, Bloodhorn pressed his hands together over the Goblin Gold.

"I insist you take this. It is a gift, and if nothing else, take it that I am only protecting my investments." Corvus felt a stab of sadness run through him. Of course. Bloodhorn only wanted to protect his supplier. The tea wouldn't grow itself in great quantities like he could…

Before Corvus could think anymore, Bloodhorn interrupted him.

"No, Corvus. Not the tea. Don't look at me like that, I knew that's what you were thinking. No. My investment is you. I believe that you will go far, and I will support you as much as I am able." Corvus' eyes watered as he covered the Goblin Gold again and gently stored it in his bag, near his books. He was going to see if he could get it put in his wand. That would be best for him to protect himself.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Corvus had stepped forwards and wrapped his small arms around Bloodhorn, giving him the nicest hug he could manage.

**Hey guys, so this is the new chapter I've been righting for a while, and I know I stuffed up all the other chapters by getting rid of stuff, but next chapter we will definitely meet one of the most important characters in this story yet. **

**So Neville is now Corvus, did anyone not like that? Any questions please leave a comment. Or just leave a comment because you like the story? Or anything. Please~ Leave a comment~ **


	8. Chapter 7

**Hello! I'm sorry it's taken me this long to update but I've been busy with completing the school year and surviving the holidays and the start of a new school year... Happy new year by the way!**

**Enjoy the chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing at all**

**Let's go!**

Corvus sighed in slight relief as he stepped out of the bank and into the alley, leaving some warm departing words to the goblins standing guard by the doors. It wasn't that he didn't like the bank, because that couldn't be any more wrong, but he had started to feel a bit claustrophobic under the many layers of stone for so long. He pulled his supplies list out and inspected what he would need once more. He'd spent so much time in the bank that it was already a few hours past midday so he wouldn't be able to get everything. He decided to leave the books and equipment for tomorrow, and get the measurements for his uniform taken today. He could pick them up tomorrow and spend the rest of the day splurging on himself and getting some real clothes and hopefully his wand.

He headed deeper into the alley and caught sight of a shop named _Trauvalle's Trunks _which he headed straight for. He reckoned that it was the best way to start his shopping. He would need a trunk to store and carry all of his purchases in. Maybe he could get one of those proper extendable bags too that he could keep his bottomless money pouch in and other things that he'd rather keep on his person.

There was another customer in the store when he arrived: a young woman with rounded glasses, purple robes and a matching beret browsing through the library trunk section who paid him no mind when the bell by the door rang. The short man behind the counter was middle aged and shot him a friendly- if questioning- smile when he glanced at him before going back to whatever he was writing in a brown journal on the countertop.

Corvus wandered over to the school trunk section and spent a few minutes there, surveying his choices before turning away from the disappointing selection and strolling over to the multi-compartment display section. These trunks were a bit more expensive than what he had wanted in a trunk, but they all seemed to be of a good quality, and there was a more diverse range of options that he could choose from.

He finally came across a seal brown case with darker leather straps and copper clasps. It was reasonably sized and didn't necessarily call attention to it while having all of the necessary compartments inside. There was a regular section that would hold all of his school equipment, a wardrobe, library and a potion sections, and another "blank" section that he was sure he could find use for. It seemed like you could access each section by turning a small knob on the side of the case that pointed to the numbers that corresponded to the different sections. It already had weightless and shrinkable charms on it but he would have to ask for a password charm from the shopkeeper.

Corvus meandered over to the counter with the case and had a short discussion with the shopkeeper about the charm and then payed the man thirty-five Galleons and six Sickles for the trunk and thirteen Galleons for the bottomless satchel which he then stored the shrunken trunk in. He had asked the shop keeper to add the Black crest onto the trunk for him and it looked great. Slipping on his satchel, Corvus smiled to the man as he walked back out of the shop and back into the alley.

His next stop was to _Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, _where he waited only five minutes to be seen by an assistant who quickly measured him for his school robes and his gloves, but he decided to get his winter cloak at the other clothing store he'd seen on the way here, _Felix &amp; Fancies' Fits, _along with the rest of his new wardrobe. Before he left he decided to buy proper shoes in his size, as while he knew that different materials of robes were important for comfort and style, shoes weren't as important and _Madam Malkin's _shoe range had muggle influence shoe styles that he could move around comfortably in. He bought four pairs of shoes: one classy black pair for formal occasions, two muggle styled pairs- one for running and the other for style- and a pair of heavy, fur lined boots that he assumed he would need for the days that he wouldn't wear his uniform at Hogwarts. After they organised for him to come by the next day in the morning to pick up all of his clothes and shoes, Corvus headed back out into the alley, satchel swinging at his side with every step.

_Felix &amp; Fancies' Fits _was a much more posh looking store than _Madam Malkin's _and Corvus suspected, much more expensive. But he figured that as he was finally getting some proper clothes for the first time, he could be allowed to splurge a little on some fancy things. The doorbell rang out sharply when he entered and a thin man with a pointed nose and dark clothes glared up at him as soon as he stepped inside, making him instantly uncomfortable and feeling unwanted. He knew he didn't look his best, but that vulture of a man shouldn't judge him so harshly immediately. Corvus looked away the man and turned to the shelves next to him, ignoring the undignified huff that the salesman let out as soon as he dropped eye-contact.

Corvus panicked. He knew nothing about fashion and all of these clothes looked too fancy for someone like him to wear, but he didn't want to ask that unfriendly scavenger. He could feel the steady gaze on his back as he dithered around the store but he refused to turn around and acknowledge it. Corvus nearly sighed when he heard the bell ring again, indicating another customer and ripping the oppressive scrutiny from his shoulders. He froze up again when he realised that the people who had just walked in the store were probably also very proud and would look down on him for being in this state of dress. Keeping his back to the door, he shifted so that he was hidden behind some of the taller racks and then stood as still as he could manage.

He heard the voices of a young boy and a middle-aged woman, obviously mother and son, and if the way the younger mentioned Hogwarts he assumed that another to-be first year had just entered the store. This was bad. It was bad enough that the store owners had to see him like this, but someone his age that he would probably be seeing a lot over the next few years? He had to get out before they noticed him. He'd just come back tomorrow and buy some stuff then.

Corvus slowly edged to the corner of the rack he was pressing against and looked around it for the pair. Foolishly, he felt relieved when he didn't see them, only to nearly scream when he turned back around to be face-to-face with the younger boy he had just been listening in on.

The slight boy standing in front of him was very pale with shocking white-blonde hair that was slicked tightly back, making his sharp, pointed features even more pronounced. His eyes were a very clear grey, almost silver, giving his face a more refined, princely look. It was a shame his face held faint signs of growing arrogance, but an even greater shame that he probably looked much more like his father than the stunning woman who stood silently behind him, a faint smile lifting the corners of her red-painted lips. The mother was taller than her aristocratic voice had impressed on him, but she was still very beautiful with her long blonde hair, defined cheekbones, and pale blue eyes. With a start he realised he was staring at his aunt- Narcissa Malfoy née Black and her only son Draco.

Draco smirked a little falteringly when Corvus stumbled back and nearly fell over the very rack he had just been leaning against, but Corvus' attention was still focused on Narcissa and what she could be thinking of him right now. This was not the way he had wanted to meet his relatives. He had made a plan.He had wanted to buy all his clothes and clean up and look amazing and wow them into wanting him in their family. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

Corvus didn't even realise that tears had sprung to his eyes until Narcissa's face fell into a concerned frown and Draco shifted forward a step, hand extended as if to touch his arm. Corvus gasped and shifted away, wiping frantically at his eyes and desperately wishing that they would just ignore him and walk away. His breathing hitched when Narcissa took her son's place, crouching down in a _very _unladylike pose, until she was kneeling on the floor in front of him – _probably staining her wonderful green robes-_ and looking up into his face, fishing out a handkerchief to lightly dab at his cheeks, which quickly burned red at the mortifying situation. He had to try and salvage this.

"I- I'm so sorry! This is so embarrassing, I've no idea why I'm crying like this please forgive me Mrs- Madam- Lady Malfoy. I, please- oh how undignified of me!" He could feel his flush staining his ears and neck as it spread further and further in his embarrassment. He shouldn't have said anything. Everything he was saying was only making the situation all the more awkward for everyone involved. Corvus was so caught up in his self-worry that when Narcissa sent a warm smile at him it stole all the breath from his lungs and he was even more unprepared for the light giggle that Draco quickly smothered in his own sleeve and tried to hide when Corvus turned to him.

"It's quite alright Mr. Black, I'm sure Draco just shocked you a little when he snuck up on you." Narcissa's voice was warm with amusement, but not the malicious kind. Then her words caught up with him.

"No, no! It wasn't that! I wasn't- how do you know who I am?" Apparently this was the most hilarious thing that he could've said in this situation, for it sent Draco into another round of giggles and Narcissa's smile widened into the heart-shaped grin that she shared with her son. Corvus watched on, bemused and slightly suspicious.

"Is that not the Black ring on your finger, dear?" Corvus' dying blush raged back in full force with that comment and this time he could feel the heat radiating from his neck when he subconsciously reached up to rub at it. He nodded quickly, feeling stupid. He looked up when Narcissa sighed a little and saw thinly veiled curiosity staring back at him. He felt the need to rectify that, as so far, it seemed that even though he looked like a poor tramp way out of his comfort zone, they were still comfortable enough to be kind.

"Yes it is, I apologise- I'd forgotten it was there. My name is Corvus Leonis Black, heir to the House of Black and-" Corvus froze. He'd definitely screwed up this time. He hadn't meant to let that slip. It would be strange for Corvus to say he was the heir to the House of Longbottom without having them, a. laugh at him, or b. connect the dots and figure out who he was. And he didn't think it would be wise to trust these complete strangers with one of his biggest secrets so soon, but they had obviously noticed that he was about to say more. Well, with any luck, they'd let it go. "And very pleased to meet your acquaintance."

He didn't dare to look up at their faces for the moment, so he was- once again- startled when a small hand suddenly thrust itself into his field of view.

"Malfoy. Draco Lucius Malfoy. Pleased to meet you as well, Black. But whatever are you doing in those rags?" Corvus automatically reached across the gap to shake the other's hand, but didn't even have the time to feel ashamed before Draco suddenly flinched. Corvus glanced up quickly to see Draco rubbing his head sourly where Narcissa had obviously just given him a light clip. He could practically feel her reprimanding him in the air, and Draco obviously could as well, seeing as he turned back to Corvus with an apologetic look on his pointed face. Corvus could only smile, and this seemed to lighten the moods of the other two significantly. Narcissa cleared her throat lightly after a moment and drew Corvus' attention.

"Do you need any help picking some new styles? Draco and I were just here to pick up some warm cloaks for the winter, so we'd be very happy to help our newly found friend here." Corvus nodded enthusiastically, ecstatic at the careless use of the word 'friend' when directed at him. Draco immediately grabbed his wrist and dragged him over to the man at the counter- who had paled drastically, looking as shocked as Corvus(flushing an ugly red when Corvus smirked at him)- and ordered for Corvus to be measured instantly.

They spent half-an-hour in the store, getting Corvus measured for all types of clothes: shirts, pants, jackets, cloaks, and even-embarrassingly enough- undergarments, as well as the Malfoys themselves getting measured for their winter cloaks. Draco proved to be very good at finding a person's matching colours, so all of Corvus' orders were to be in 'mid' green, light and dark blue, white, black and some light, earthy browns. He also bought some clothes to change into immediately- on Draco's orders of course- so when he walked out of the shop, looking just like the two standing next to him, he felt pretty good.

Narcissa took them over to a cosy looking café, with a square grey tiled floor, matching the grey brick walls, that were outshone-literally- by the huge bronze chandelier with what must have been at least a hundred candles on it, lighting up the service area, with various bronze appliances Corvus assumed made a variety of food and drinks. They were led to a table near the window and Draco immediately ordered a hot chocolate, while Narcissa and Corus preferred tea. This brought Corvus to show them his special blend of tea that Narcissa was absolutely fascinated with, and Draco made a comment about how well Corvus would fit into Slytherin with how he'd already started a business with the Goblins. Corvus refrained from telling them about his special abilities, but the conversation still took a bit of a serious turn when Narcissa asked if he guardian would be meeting him somewhere in the alley.

Corvus attempted to steer the conversation away swiftly, but Narcissa wouldn't drop it, so he was forced to tell her that he would be staying in the _Leaky Cauldron_ until school started. Both Malfoys were against the idea and offered for Corvus to stay with them, but Corvus politely refused, insisting that he couldn't impose on their hospitality that much. They did manage to weasel him into agreeing to come back with them to the manor this afternoon for tea, when they had finished their shopping.

Draco informed him that the only thing he had left to buy was his potion set and then his wand- which he was ridiculously excited about- and Corvus agreed to buy his at the same time. They moved to _Slug &amp; Jitters Apothecary, _where Narcissa assured they would get the Slytherin's discount, which meant better quality products and equipment for a cheaper price, an arrangement by Slytherin's Head of House, Severus Snape. Corvus worried is he might not be placed in Slytherin, but both Malfoys were confident he would follow both Draco and the Black family tradition. Corvus was startled when Draco grabbed his hand to lead him through the alley, but less by the contact than the fact that the bracelet on Draco's wrist matched his own exactly, except for the fact that instead of a dragon, Draco's engraving was of a bird. Corvus burst into laughter when he realised that the bird was either a crow or a raven.

His sudden laughter confused both of the Malfoys until they realised that he was grabbing at Draco's wrist to compare their bracelets, the discovery of which made Draco snort himself into equally boisterous laughter. Narcissa smiled down at them fondly before leading them into the store and organising the deal for them both. Corvus handed over his money to her and then mulled around the store with Draco, who had already taken to calling him Corvi. He couldn't seem to get the smile off his face or the warm feeling from his heart with the thought that he had made a friend so quickly, and one who seemed really great. He had spoken to Draco about why he had introduced himself with his last name before his first but had backed away from the conversation when Draco started to get defensive about his father. He did manage to convince Draco to try and introduce himself with his own name first, if only because it would be easier to make a deal with someone if they felt more comfortable with him.

They left the store for _Ollivanders _in excitement, clutching at each other's hands to both stop the other and themselves from rushing ahead and losing Narcissa. It was a bit of a disappointment when they reached the store though, as when Draco insisted Corvus go first, he probably hadn't anticipated the fact that Ollivander was not able to get him a wand. It took over two hours for Ollivander to determine that no wand in his shop would suit Corvus at all. The proclamation brought both of the fast friends to tears until Ollivander suggested a store to Narcissa that made custom wands, that while a bit more expensive, would probably have what was needed. The only downside was that it was just beyond the cusp of Knockturn Alley, but he needn't have worried. Narcissa had been one of the best duellers in her year, Draco had sneakily informed him as they left the store. Draco had refused to get his own wand until Corvus had his, and he wanted to see if he could also get a custom wand.

It had taken an hour for the both of them to get their wands, and cost even more than Corvus had expected to have the Goblin gold added, but in the end he felt the 18 galleons he had paid was worth it. His wand was Cedar wood marbled with Applewood, with the Goblin gold forming the handle, which looked like a flower bud and formed the vines carved from tip to handle, multiple protection runes running along the petals. The core was Ghillie Dhu hair, and it was pliant at 11 ½ inches. Draco had an 11 inch, Phoenix feather unyielding Alder wand with a solid, smooth, rounded Pear wood handle- the defensive runes on his wand were carved in circles above the handle, going halfway up the wand.

They exited the store content and enthusiastic to finally practice real magic with their own wands, but heeded Narcissa warnings to not try and attempt anything before going to school or at least doing appropriate research on the matter. This didn't seem to be a problem for the two bookworms at all.

Next stop, Malfoy Manor.

**So… how was it? I hope this chapter was okay- I know it's been a while so I really wanted this one to be nice, but I'm worried it was a bit boring? I really think it'll start to get more interesting in the next chapter, whenever I get the time to post that one. **

**I really encourage you guys to look up the wand woods that I used on the Harry Potter Wiki and tell me if you think they fit the characters! **

**Thanks for reading! Until next time!**


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